


written in the scars on our hearts

by mixtapestar



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic, M/M, OC using a consensual sexual relationship in a manipulative manner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 18:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixtapestar/pseuds/mixtapestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles needs a roommate as he starts college, he decides Derek is the perfect candidate. He knows college is supposed to change your life, but this is ridiculous. Domestic future fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	written in the scars on our hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Canon through the end of season 2. Thanks as always to reinventweather for the beta, and for the text conversation that shaped this entire fic. Title from Pink's "Just Give Me a Reason", because it's just too fitting.

"So _apparently_ I was about a day too late to get a dorm room, because _somebody_ had a wolf crisis on registration day."

"Dude, don't look at me, I told you we could handle it."

"Yeah, and if I hadn't been there you probably would've beheaded Erica by accident. Don't--" Stiles continues before Scott can protest, "--argue with me, we both know you can't resist trying out a new toy."

Scott crosses his arms and mumbles something about being better these days, but Stiles has already moved on.

"Look, the point is, I'm going to need an apartment."

"Why can't you just commute?" Scott asks around a mouthful of Cheetos. Stiles pretends to gag at the sight and grabs a handful of his own from the bag. "Would make it easier for us to hang out."

"Okay, one, there's no way we're getting wolfy secrets past my dad for much longer, we definitely need our own space, and two, I am going to be _in college_ , I am actually going to need to do college things."

"Like that guy you met at orientation," Scott quips.

"You leave Jonathan out of this," Stiles says, pointing a Cheeto-stained finger at him in what he hopes is a threatening matter. "But if you're worried about hanging out, you could go in with me on the rent?"

"Dude, how many times are we gonna go through this? I'm trying to _save_ money by taking a year off."

"I know, I know," Stiles says, waving at the air. He sighs heavily. "I just don't want to lose my best buddy."

"And you want half the rent paid for."

"Rent is really expensive!"

"You could try Craigslist?"

Stiles doesn't favor that with a verbal response, but he does give Scott a pretty expressive look of disdain.

"Look, I'm happy to help you find someone, but I promised Derek I'd come by for like, what did you call it? Pack debriefing?"

"What? Without me?!"

"You were literally _just_ complaining that the pack got in the way of your college-y things."

"Whatever, you're not having a pack party without me. Come on, I'll drive."

******

It only takes five minutes of getting dripped on by the lack of sufficient ceiling in Derek's house for Stiles to have the idea. " _You_ could move in with me!" Stiles exclaims, not realizing that he'd been tuning out the rest of the conversation.

"Um," Allison says, thrown off by the interruption. "I don't think we'd be very compatible roommates--"

"Let me stop you right there. First of all, you don't know that, but I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to Derek."

Derek's eyebrows shoot up. "Me?" he says at the same time that everyone else says, equally surprised, "Derek?"

"Come on, your house is more than leaking, it's just _raining_ on me right now. Indoors." He tries to break down Derek's expression to figure out if he's starting to come around, but it kind of just looks like he's offended. "Look, I know you like, have sentimental ties and shit. I get that. I'm just saying, maybe have a real--I mean, _separate_ place to sleep and like, live, with a roof and running water and stuff."

"Not actually a bad idea," Lydia says, looking just as surprised at herself for saying so. Stiles notes that she managed to snag the least-leaky part of the room but doesn't hold it against her since she's on his side.

Before Stiles knows what's happening, everyone is analyzing the pros and cons of his proposition. Most of the cons have to do with Stiles's ability to be a good roommate, which isn't fair as none of them have had the pleasure of living with him.

Before they can get too into it, though, Derek cuts them off and says, "Can we get back to the task at hand? We'll talk about this _later_."

Stiles accepts the dismissal, tuning out the rest of the meeting so that he can prepare his argument.

******

Later comes in the form of cheeseburgers at AJ's Diner and a reluctant Derek. Stiles had managed to get him to agree to one meal for him to pitch the idea, and he's currently selling it as best he can.

"You always want to do what's best for the pack, right? Well, this is perfect! We'd have a safe space to go without the weather or other random roommates-slash-parents being a factor, plus you'd get a chance to maybe be a little less antisocial!"

"I only said that once when I was drugged," Derek says with a slight shake of his head, taking a huge bite out of his burger. Stiles gets distracted for just a second watching him lick ketchup from the corner of his lip, but he doesn't miss the hint of wavering as Derek continues, "I guess it could be good for the pack to have somewhere..."

"Yeah! Yes, exactly, it could be the safe haven, man. They're paying for their own snacks, though, I'm not made of money." Sensing that Derek's just about to cave, he plays his final card. "Plus, it's right on the outer edge of campus near the woods! If there were ever any emergencies, you could wolf out and take off without being seen."

"Could you keep your voice down?" Derek says with a glare. He's definitely considering it, though, and Stiles forces himself to focus on his burger and let Derek see the brilliance of his plan.

"I guess maybe we could work something out," Derek says, and Stiles gives a whoop of celebration.

"Great! So, about the rent..."

******

When Derek shows up at the apartment with nothing but a twin mattress and a couple tattered and overstuffed bookbags, Stiles doesn't think much about it. He's five minutes late to his next orientation event as it is, so he tells Derek to get settled and pats him on the back as he grabs his ID off the table and books it to the auditorium.

When he gets back four hours later, a little bit tipsy from the party he somehow got roped into, Derek's door is shut, so it seems pretty obvious he's done moving for the night. Stiles opts not to bother him, not on their first night as roommates. Scott always says he has a tendency to be more grating when he's been drinking, and Stiles doesn't want to chance it.

He doesn't see much of Derek over the next two weeks. The rest of Stiles's coffee seems to disappear in the mornings, and Stiles does catch Derek trying to figure out the shower, but that's more or less it. Classes start with a bang, and not the good kind. He's saving up that joke for the first chance he gets, but then Derek actually manages to get shot somewhere and doesn't come home for two days. The joke doesn't taste right in his mouth after that.

"Okay, we're going to need some kind of system here, so I know when you're just not coming home versus when you're actually in trouble," Stiles says once he's gotten over the shock of finding out just why his roommate has been absent for so long. "Because from now on when you don't call, I'm just going to assume you've been shot."

"It healed," Derek says, a bit snappish. His tone makes Stiles wonder if maybe Derek's still bitter about what happened. "You don't have any responsibility for me. That's not why we're doing this."

Stiles gapes at Derek for a second, because what? "I don't care why you think we're 'doing this,'" Stiles says, complete with air quotes, "but like it or not I am part of your little pack, and I need to be one of the people on call when you get into situations that you can't handle alone."

He waits for Derek to quit staring long enough to give a response and privately wonders if Derek's jaw ever hurts from being clenched so much. Finally, he inclines his head and says, "Yeah, alright," before turning and heading back to his room.

Stiles lets the minor victory set in for about half a second before realizing that Derek didn't actually do what he asked. "Hang on, we need to actually have a _system_ ," he begins, following Derek into his room, "we can't just... Hold up. Where is your stuff?"

Stiles stares around the bare room, completely dumbfounded. Derek's tiny mattress is tucked into the corner, and all the way on the other side of the room lies Derek's bookbag in a sad heap, a couple of books stacked beside it. Derek doesn't look at him. "This is my stuff."

"You're kidding."

Derek's expression tells Stiles he isn't kidding. "This is all I need."

Stiles eyes the mattress like it has personally offended him, which, it kind of has. "I know you have super werewolf healing powers, but you know that thing is probably murder on your back."

"It's fine," Derek says through gritted teeth. "Just because the bright blue sign told you yours had 200 extra feathers for additional comfort doesn't mean your money was well spent."

Stiles quirks his mouth to the side in an attempt not to laugh. That was almost a joke. "Oh really? I take it you picked your mattress based on which one had the greatest resemblance to a stiff board."

Derek tilts his chin up. "I've had this bed for a long time, and it's just as comfortable as the day I got it."

Stiles gives that a second to sink in before responding, because a "long time" ago Derek still had a family. He remembers the fall-out from the last time he accidentally made light of one of Derek's memories. "Mattresses get old, man. I can't believe we're arguing about this. Tell you what, sleep in mine tonight, I'll be happy to drop it if you honestly notice no discernible difference."

"Fine," Derek says before Stiles can panic about offering his bed to Derek Hale and everything that _could_ mean if Derek actually thought about such things. "But you have to sleep here. You'll see it's just as good."

"Yeah, okay," Stiles says, uncrossing his arms in defeat. It's not like he really _expected_ Derek to share his bed or anything, but... it was a nice thought for a second there.

That night, Stiles lays in Derek's bed, his mind way too active to fall asleep. He already knows he's not going to sleep well, because even if the mattress isn't that bad, it's not _his_. Plus there's the fact that he can't stop thinking about Derek in this bed, Derek however many years ago, jerking off under the sheets when nobody could hear.

Stiles rubs at his thighs and turns onto his side, thinking unsexy thoughts as hard as he can. He's not going to jerk off in Derek's bed. Derek's got wolf senses; he'll _know_.

He manages to talk himself down long enough to fall asleep, but when he jerks awake a few hours later with a raging hard-on, there's really no denying it. After a minute of crisis, he elects to take a shower. A cold shower is his intention, but once he gets under the spray he can't quite bring himself to switch it over to the harshness of cold water. He's in his own space now, and this should help him get back to sleep.

He sticks with safe fantasies, though. Jonathan the Orientation Guy, who happens to be in his Psych 101 class, with the jawline and the tattoo on his wrist. The pretty blonde girl that sat with him in the cafeteria two days ago and actually carried on a conversation for a few minutes. But in between all his focused fantasizing pop up wisps of his dream, a dream in which Derek figured prominently, and Stiles finds himself chasing the details of that as he moves his hand in a tight grip over his cock. He distinctly remembers an image of sweat focused on the hard planes of Derek's back, the stark contrast of his tattoo against his skin, and how wonderful it had felt to trace the lines of it in his dream. He twists his fingers just under the head of his cock, occasionally rubbing the slit and then pumping until he can feel his orgasm building, and he comes with the picture of his tongue sliding across Derek's tattoo fresh on his mind.

"Well fuck," he mumbles as the shower washes away any evidence of what just happened.

******

 _So you're attracted to your roommate,_ Stiles thinks the next morning, at least two hours before he would typically be awake on a Saturday, as he waits for his coffee to finish brewing. _It's not the end of the world. He's an attractive guy, you've noticed before. He probably gets it all the time. Doesn't mean anything. You're attracted to at least eight other people you saw yesterday._

_But you don't have to live with the eight other people you took mental photos of for future fantasies._

_But it's not like you're going to just jump him the next time you see him without a shirt. It's just a feeling; you'll deal with it._

The track is still going on ad nauseum in his head when Scott and Isaac drop by. "You look terrible," Isaac says as Stiles scowls at him over his coffee mug.

"I think the proper greeting is 'hello.'"

"Derek not here?" Scott says as he helps himself to coffee. Stiles contemplates murder.

"Still asleep."

Scott looks dumbfounded. "It's after 10."

"I didn't think Derek even slept," Isaac says.

Scott, sensing Stiles's crankiness, gets to the point. "We need to talk to him about what happened in the woods."

"I'll go get him," Stiles says, setting his mug down. " _Don't_ touch my coffee."

When Stiles opens the door to his room, Derek has his sheets kicked down to his ankles and he's currently drooling into Stiles's pillow. It shouldn't be as attractive as it is, but Stiles thinks he can make out the sheen of sweat over Derek's shirtless back, and he comes up with some fresh curses for his own overactive imagination. _Remember that part about not jumping him?_

"Derek, wake up. Scott and Isaac are here."

No response.

"Hey," Stiles says, slightly more forcefully, heading toward the bed.

Derek's practically snoring. It makes Stiles smile for a second. He looks so harmless deep asleep like this. Well, almost. Cautiously, he rests a hand over Derek's wrist, repeating his name. He thinks that's done it for a moment, because Derek shifts and snuffles in a way that sounds like he's saying something, but he stills with Stiles's hand in his open palm. Stiles just stares at him for a second, questioning how his life turned out and why he's doing what he's doing at the moment.

 _Fuck it_ , Stiles thinks, and leaves him to rest. "He's completely out. I guess he wasn't done healing yet. You wanna tell me what happened out there?"

"We're not completely sure." Scott says, his eyes flicking over to Isaac with worry in his expression. "We found him with an arrow in his leg. We think there was wolfsbane on the arrow, keeping him down and in wolf form. It wasn't pretty, dude."

Isaac nods, looking somber. "I don't know what would've happened if it'd taken us longer to find him."

"We almost couldn't get the arrow out. The wolfsbane was affecting us too."

Stiles makes a frustrated noise. "You're kidding, right? This is when you're supposed to _call me_. Spoiler alert: wolfsbane has no effect on me!"

"Oh, right," Isaac says with a look like he'd never have thought of that.

Scott seems a little more apologetic. "It looked bad, man. I thought we needed to help him right away."

Stiles sighs and lets it go, suggesting they take a break from the conversation until Derek wakes up. He still grumbles to himself every few minutes, annoyed that he'd been left out when he might've been able to help.

When Derek finally stumbles out to find the three of them watching Saturday morning cartoons (a totally valid life choice), Stiles is finally starting to feel awake again. He's completely engrossed in what Spider-Man is doing on-screen at first, but when he double-takes and notices Derek's hair matted up on one side, he just starts laughing. For some reason it's the funniest thing he's ever seen related to Derek, but it is Derek, so he muffles his laughter into his sleeve.

He waits for the glare, but Derek just yawns and heads for the coffee maker, muttering a sleepy, "Morning."

Stiles blinks after him, watching him pour and then taste the coffee, and something just looks... different. Different in a way that's making him feel good about life. All at once he realizes what it is - Derek is almost smiling.

It's not that Stiles has never seen Derek smile. Occasionally he'll get a good reaction from one of his jokes from Derek, or he'll catch him smiling at someone in the pack for whatever reason, but it doesn't change the fact that Derek's default look is more of a scowl than a smile. And this isn't even a smile, just a look of complete contentment. Stiles is kind of jealous.

For a moment Stiles considers making a big deal about it, because it'd be hilarious, putting Derek on the spot in front of his pack, but for some reason he wants to keep this between the two of them. Not to mention, he doesn't really want that half-smile to transform back into a scowl just yet.

Instead he bounds up to the counter and gives Derek his biggest grin.

"Shut up," Derek says, expression serious as he fixes his gaze to the TV. Stiles can only laugh, though, because despite his attempt to go into alpha mode, it's obvious he's more relaxed that Stiles has seen him in a while.

"I was totally right, you might as well admit it now."

"I'll admit I do sleep better in your bed, alright, but it doesn't mean you were right about everything." He doesn't take his eyes off the TV even as he picks up his mug and takes a sip of coffee, which is for the best really, because Stiles is letting his mind picture Derek sleeping in his bed on a more permanent basis.

File under: something to think about later. "You should continue the experiment, then. There's all kinds of factors. Maybe it was my shampoo."

For a second, he thinks Derek's choking on his coffee, but it turns out he's laughing. "I'm not that desperate for sleep."

Stiles makes an offended noise and clutches at his chest. "You cut me deep, Mr. Hale. Well given the way you are currently drinking my coffee from my coffeemaker, does this mean I can convince you to get a few things of your own now?"

Derek looks skeptical, but it's the same skeptical that preceded Stiles talking him into moving in. "Like what?"

Stiles imagines for a moment taking Derek to IKEA, picking out a bed set and closet and stools for their kitchen, and his mind almost shorts out because there is literally no way he would be able to get Derek past the escalators. He probably wouldn't even go inside once he saw the size of the store. Stiles decides to start slower. "Like whatever you want, man! Maybe a dresser, a lamp? It doesn't matter, I just don't want to walk into your room and think we've been robbed."

"What are you guys talking about?" Scott says, pushing off the couch and heading their way. Stiles had kind of forgotten he and Isaac were there.

"Nothing. More coffee?" Scott eyes Stiles for a second, obviously sensing that he's missing something, so Stiles quickly changes the subject. "So you wanted to ask Derek something about yesterday?"

The shift in Derek as he goes into business mode is obvious, and it almost makes Stiles sad to see the happy, rested Derek go. He listens as the three of them talk through official pack business and occasionally offers his own thoughts, and when he refills Derek's mug and hands it over during a lull, he sees the surprise register on Derek's face as his hands cradle the warm mug.

"You're taking your coffee way too seriously, dude," Stiles says as Derek stares pensively into the mug. Isaac and Scott are hunched over the counter trying to figure out how to find out more about the hunter that shot Derek and the wolf that attacked him before that, and Stiles doesn't mind being left out this one time.

Derek glances up and, with a quirk of a smile, says, "Okay, maybe a _few_ things."

Stiles pumps his fist so hard he almost pulls a muscle. Worth it.

******

After a nice, solid nap back in his own bed, Stiles is thrumming with energy and ready to make Derek follow up on his promise. True to his word, Derek lets Stiles take him to Target, where Stiles immediately starts picking out things for Derek's room.

"Hmm, okay, storage. Let's start there, so your clothes aren't all over the floor."

Derek scoffs. "They're not 'all over the floor.' I have a system."

"Sure, a floor system. Today we're going to upgrade you to a shelving system."

Stiles is in such a good mood that even Derek's reluctance isn't getting him down. He makes stupid Harry Potter jokes about 'invisible shelves' and levitation, and the trip keeps going like that - the huge wardrobe on display leads to Narnia, the bookcase with the crooked shelves is for your less-than-straight books - until occasionally some of his ridiculous puns and references get a laugh from Derek. He keeps it up because intermittently, Derek will actually like something Stiles is pointing out, or he'll ask enough questions to clue Stiles in that he's interested in it, and if Stiles pushes it, then Derek will concede to putting it in the cart.

Every once in a while, Derek will go quiet and his body language will close off, like right now as he's deciding between black and brown-black for a sheet set. Though it goes against his very nature not to tease Derek about choosing between such similar colors, Stiles takes the hint and leaves him alone.

Derek finds him in the kitchen supplies, dropping the brown-black set in the cart without a word. After only a few seconds, his pensive look fades away and a teasing smirk takes its place. "Stiles, we are not getting a meat tenderizer."

"Why not?" Stiles says despairingly. "Some of us have weaker, human stomachs, dude. This might help with digestion! Plus, a handy weapon in an emergency."

Derek raises his eyebrows as Stiles raises it above his head as if to strike. "The most advanced food I've seen you make is a Hot Pocket."

"Yes, but if you decided to get like the Foreman grill or something, that could all change," Stiles protests with a meaningful look.

Derek just shakes his head and pushes the cart away, so Stiles gives up. For now.

Later, when Stiles is trying to sell Derek on a desk organizer, Derek finally crosses his arms and says, "I thought we only said a few things."

Stiles knew this was going to happen, but he's just having so much fun, he can't help it. "Okay, just pick out one more practical thing and then we can go get some food and be done."

Derek makes a big deal about thinking over what he wants to get, and when he wheels the cart back around and picks up the Foreman grill, Stiles can't help but blurt, "You are so sexy to me right now. C'mon, let's go get _steaks_."

Stiles thinks they're done after that, but as they walk past the clothes, Derek actually sidetracks them and starts picking things out. He can't help but feel a little proud of himself for convincing Derek to do this.

And then Derek holds up a button-up and says, "Hm, this would look good on you," and hands it to Stiles.

Stiles can only stare at it, confused, part of him wanting to argue at the color but then again he doesn't think anyone has ever said that to him before. He reluctantly tries the shirt on over his t-shirt, and Derek makes an approving face. After that it's hard to argue against buying it. He tells himself it's just in exchange for Derek getting all this stuff at his request.

Their time at the register takes forever, and Stiles wants to apologize to the cashier for all the trouble, but they get through it with only a couple price checks. Once they load up the Jeep, Stiles goes for the high-five, but Derek just glares at him.

"Whatever," Stiles says, unaffected. "You totally had fun today."

Derek doesn't answer, but Stiles thinks he sees him smiling out of the corner of his eye.

******

After a few weeks, once Derek's new mattress arrives and his new purchases get all set up and mixed in with Stiles's stuff, a routine starts to form. Derek keeps mostly to himself while Stiles is busy with classes or homework, and Stiles does his best to stay involved with the pack when he has time. It isn't uncommon for him to come back from a class to find one of them there, whether it's Allison and Lydia making pancakes and using their TiVo, Boyd taking a nap on their couch, or any number of random scenarios that Stiles never seems to anticipate.

Every once in a while, though, he'll encounter a new situation with Derek that leaves him feeling lost.

Stiles loves his music. He always has, and he's never really cared how ridiculous he looks when he sings and/or dances along. Which is why he is so angry at himself right now for being embarrassed about being caught out by his stupid, muscle-y roommate.

It's not his fault that his headphones are ultra noise-cancelly and that Pandora pulled up the best song in the world, okay? He was in his own room, he'd thought he wasn't bothering anybody.

And the worst part is that Derek just stared silently back and Stiles just shut right up and pretended it didn't happen like Hugh Grant in Love Actually and now he feels like an idiot.

And now Derek's camped out on the couch, and Stiles has to do the walk of shame in front of him to get to the fridge.

"You don't have to do that, you know," Derek says before Stiles can finish his trek between Derek and the _House_ rerun.

He freezes in his tracks. "Do what?"

"Listen with headphones. I don't care if you play your music," Derek says, a quirk to his mouth. "Maybe it will drown out the singing."

Stiles's mouth drops open and for a second he almost shoots back something defensive, but then the quirk of Derek's mouth shifts into a full-blown smile, and Stiles can't help but laugh. "Very funny, dude," he says as he traipses the rest of the way into the kitchen.

Instead of closing himself back in his room where he will almost certainly wind up texting Jonathan and not getting anything done at all, Stiles decides to bring his laptop out to the living room and do his homework with _House_ in the background.

He quickly notices, though, that Derek is intensely into the show, and watching that in action is far more interesting than psych research.  
"You like this show?" Stiles asks, even though the answer is obvious.

"It's a good exercise in deductive reasoning."

"Do you even know anything about the study of medicine?" But Stiles is immediately shushed as House finishes up his prank on Wilson onscreen.

When the commercial break comes, Derek defends his enjoyment of the show.

"Oh hey man," Stiles responds, cutting him off, "I'm not judging. I just didn't think you were into this kind of stuff."

Derek gives him an unimpressed look. "The team dynamics are very interesting."

Stiles nods in agreement and goes into what drew him to _House_ when it first started. When the show comes back from commercial, Derek devotes his attention back to the screen and Stiles goes back to studying. They reach a nice, quiet balance of _House_ and homework with some conversation during commercials. They have TiVo, but rather than tell Derek he could be skipping commercials, Stiles decides he prefers it this way.

At the end of the night, however, he does set it to record all episodes including reruns so that they can watch them together as time allows. He also adds _NCIS_ and _Castle_ for good measure since it was the deductive reasoning that drew Derek to House in the first place. It'll be good roommate bonding, he's sure of it.

******

Stiles starts to feel comfortable settling in to his weird style of coexistence with Derek. They're definitely closer, better friends, but sometimes Derek will still confuse the hell out of him. One night Stiles stumbles home to find Derek curled up on the couch with a book and a fucking candle as the only source of light, swear to god, and he just has to stop in the doorway and laugh until he can't stand up anymore.

But he only realizes he's lost his standing ability when Derek is there with a strong grip on his shoulder, lifting him up, and he just laughs some more.

"How much did you have to drink?" Derek demands.

"Psssh, I only had a few... coupl'a shots."

"Yeah okay, it's time for bed," Derek says, but when he tries to guide Stiles out of the living room, Stiles's legs won't cooperate. With a frustrated noise, Derek does some quick wolf-powery thing and suddenly he's carrying Stiles in the direction of the bedroom.

"You're so strong," Stiles says after he's enjoyed the sight of the floor going by, and suddenly he has to know if Derek's chest is as hard as it looks.

Unfortunately this is the same moment that Derek decides to drop him into his bed, so with a giggle, Stiles pulls Derek down on top of him. Derek grumbles something that Stiles doesn't catch and he thinks he apologizes in response, but he's thinking about how Derek's chest really isn't that stony, it's sort of nice, kind of comfortable, and then he's thinking about cushions and pillows and then he slowly slips... into...

******

Stiles wakes up with a snort, a little confused even though he's obviously in his own bed, until he realizes the strange thing - he's laying on top of someone. He almost says, "Jonathan?" but then the sound gets caught in his throat when he catches sight of Derek, almost happy-looking in sleep. "Ohgod."

  
  
art by [nininghasfeelings](http://nininghasfeelings.tumblr.com/post/43056165169)  


Derek's face scrunches up, and it's both adorable and terrifying, because he's waking up, and Stiles still hasn't figured out-- but Derek is saying, "Morning," as direct and to the point as always.

"Um," Stiles swallows and stares into Derek's still-relaxed face and he just can't process this, "um, okay, please tell me that we didn't, that nothing actually, ohgod."

That serene look that Stiles had almost forgotten from their bed switching experiment fades so quickly Stiles almost isn't sure it even happened. Derek shifts further away from Stiles on the bed and says with a scowl, "You're still fully-clothed, moron."

"Right, right okay, so that means, okay, that's good." Stiles takes a deep breath. He almost wishes he needed to go throw up, just to have an out right now, but he really didn't drink that much. "So how did you, I mean, did I, I didn't make you--?"

"You fell asleep on top of me."

"Oh." Stiles rubs the back of his neck. He remembers that now with more than a little embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Derek says, but he's still scowly, which is making Stiles uneasy. He pushes his way off the opposite side of the bed and leaves without a word. Stiles frowns after him but figures it's better to let him go.

Stiles heaves a sigh and lets his body fall back heavily against the pillows. This is not how he envisioned Derek-in-his-bed going. And he definitely slept through half a class. With a second sigh heavy enough to fell a tree, he rolls over and goes back to sleep. He'll deal with today later.

******

A couple weeks later, Stiles returns from class to find his living room full of people. Unfortunately it's not a spontaneous party, if the first aid kit spread out in the center of the room is anything to go by. "Oh no," he says, drawing everyone's attention, "what did I miss this time?"

Stiles listens as they recap their attempt to retaliate against the wolf that attacked Derek just after they moved in, how it went wrong and there was a whole pack there that far outnumbered their own pack, even with Allison helping them fight.

"They were already there," Derek says. "They were ready. I don't know how they could've known we were coming."

Stiles curses that he couldn't be there, especially when he sees that Allison is hurt. He, Allison, and Lydia usually stick together in these things; he might've been able to prevent her injury.

He goes to her first, overhearing her tell Scott in a quiet voice, "I'm fine. Go help Isaac."

"Are you sure?" Scott says, his voice wavering even though his gaze has already shifted over to Isaac.

"Go on," Stiles says, "I'll take care of her."

"Hey you," Allison says with a smile without a hint of a grimace. Stiles wishes he had her resolve. "I know what you're thinking, but I'm glad you weren't there today. It got bad in a hurry."

"All the more reason I should've been there. I could've at least manned the getaway car."

Allison laughs softly. "Derek wouldn't let Lydia come either. I think he wants to protect you."

Stiles plans to have a talk with Derek about that. He's not that fragile, and neither is Lydia. Maybe his archery skills aren't as crazy as Allison's, but he can do some damage if he needs to.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Allison says, reading the frustration in his expression. "He did at least leave the sign for you, in case we didn't come back."

"Yeah, but I don't want to find out that way," Stiles protests, pitching his voice down to a whisper. "If I'd come back from class and it was there, I'd immediately think something was wrong. Even though you could feasibly still be out fighting." He sighs. "We need a better system."

After a moment, he shakes his head to clear it. Enough of that. He stands up and talks to the whole room. "Hey, I think we've got some Dora the Explorer band-aids in the medicine cabinet for those of you who want to be _really_ stylish."

"Why do you have Dora the Explorer band-aids?" Erica asks, her expression dubious.

"Stiles thought they would be funny," Derek explains wearily.

"Because she's al rescate! To the rescue!"

"I'll take one!" Isaac says, earning him a smile from Stiles.

Scott protests, "Dude! I just finished wrapping up your leg."

"So put the band-aid on top. It'll help with the healing process."

Stiles goes to retrieve the box and after some further convincing, everyone gets at least one, even if just for show. Stiles can't help but feel a little better about everything by the end of the night. They still have some stuff to figure out with this other pack, but at least they're all together.

******

So this thing with Jonathan is a little strange, still. It's like, apparently they're not dating? Which is fine, Stiles is totally cool with that, but they tend to go to the same parties and hook up and, just, it's kind of weird because when people assume they're dating, Jonathan always corrects them. Like immediately. Each time.

"Do you have to do that every time?" Stiles says just after one such occurrence. The girl who had brought it up has already wandered off, properly chastised, and Stiles is starting to wonder if he should follow her lead.

"Oh come on, don't take it personally. You know I like you," Jonathan says, snaking his arm around Stiles's waist and pulling him close against his side.

"See, this is what I'm talking about," Stiles says to Jonathan's mouth, close enough to smell the stale beer they're serving at this particular excuse for a party. "When you act like this, it's really not that much of a stretch for people to think we're going out!"

Jonathan looks confused for a second, and Stiles isn't sure if it's the beer or if he's actually stumped him. "Do you want to be going out?"

Stiles tries not to fidget in Jonathan's grip. "Not... I mean, I like what we've got."

Jonathan raises his eyebrows as if to say, _Well?_

"Just, do you have to cut people off _mid-sentence_ to point it out? _Kind_ of insulting, I'm just saying."

"Aww, I'm sorry, babe," Jonathan says, and it's a little bit patronizing, but he's also tracing his finger across Stiles's wrist in a move that he knows drives Stiles crazy.

"Party foul!" Stiles says, maybe a touch too loud. People are staring. He lowers his voice as he continues, "You know that's cheating."

"I'm trying to make it up to you," Jonathan says privately, his smirk doing things to Stiles's insides. "This party's kinda lame anyway, why don't we get out of here?"

And that's how they wind up back at the apartment. Stiles has purposefully avoided coming back here from parties ever since the drunk-in-bed incident, and never brought anyone home because Derek doesn't, and it only seems fair. But he knows that tonight, Derek is out looking into who is in this other pack and why they might be targeting Derek's pack. He'd made it very clear that Stiles was not invited, and even if he's only out for a couple of hours, Jonathan almost definitely won't stay the night, so.

Either way, he's already talked himself into it, and Jonathan is already becoming well acquainted with his living room wall, as Stiles has him pushed up against it. He's just starting to get a rhythm with the through-the-clothes friction, and starts to think about how he'll transition to getting rid of the clothes when Jonathan pushes back. Stiles feels a little derailed for a minute as Jonathan starts guiding their movements, but it's not unusual for things to go this way. And anyway, it feels good. It's starting to feel _really_ good with zippers down and warm hands when Stiles hears the horrifying noise of a key in a lock about two feet from where they're standing.

"No, no, no no no," Stiles mumbles to himself as he backs off and hurries to look presentable. Jonathan is a bit slow on the uptake, looking a bit put out at the sudden lack of attention, so it's still fairly obvious what was just going on when Derek slams the door open with all his usual force.

Stiles's hand moves to the back of his neck as he utters a forced, "Hi, Derek." He follows Derek's gaze to Jonathan and is only slightly relieved to see that he's at least tucked himself away, but he's making no effort to look any more decent. "Uh, this is Jonathan."

Jonathan gives a sarcastic wave that makes Stiles kind of want to scream, and Derek's face is a wall of frowny stone. "We've met," Derek says.

"Oh," Stiles says. "Where did you--?"

"I didn't think you were seeing anyone," Derek says pointedly, steamrolling Stiles's question. Stiles knows in an instant that Derek does not approve, and he doesn't know why that bothers him so much.

"We're not dating," Stiles says darkly as Derek moves into the kitchen. Jonathan flashes him a big grin when he glances in his direction, but Stiles is having none of it. "Put your fucking pants back on," he snaps.

"Dude, you didn't tell me your roommate was... that," Jonathan says as he complies, his eyebrows doing that suggestive thing that had worked less than an hour ago, but now makes Stiles want to strangle him a little bit. He hears Derek clear his throat from across the room.

"Ohmygod, do you ever have to go. Now." Stiles opens the door and all but shoos Jonathan out.

"Nice seeing you again!" Jonathan calls on his way out, and Stiles swears that Derek snarls back. Stiles takes it their first meeting hadn't gone too well either.

"Wow, okay," Stiles says once the door is closed. He definitely should've had more of that stale beer before dealing with this. Derek's clearly unhappy, banging around the kitchen more than necessary, and Stiles is pretty sure their days of content, quiet coexistence are over. Approaching cautiously, he says, "Sorry, man, I thought you were going to be out."

Derek shrugs the shrug of a man who is only half-pretending he doesn't mind. Stiles wonders if his coffee maker is going to survive this stare-down. "Whatever. It'd just be nice if you didn't do that in the living room." And now he makes eye contact with Stiles. Angry eye contact. He looks disgusted.

Stiles's stomach feels like it's trying to escape through his knees, and the words "do _that_ " echo in his head in a haunting stereo with that expression as the backdrop. He hadn't known if Derek would have a problem with Stiles bringing guys back, but he'd kind of hoped Derek was more forward-thinking than that.

He clears his throat, but his voice still comes out quieter than he expects. "Yeah, I mean, I didn't think you'd be here, it's not like we were really _doing_ anything--"

Derek snorts, interrupting. "I'm not an idiot, Stiles, so don't treat me like one."

Stiles's face feels like it's on fire, but he can feel himself shifting from embarrassment to anger. If Derek feels this way about him, that's his own problem, and Stiles isn't going to change just for some stupid roommate. He lets that anger fuel him as he speaks up. "I get how you feel, okay? But it's just-- it's _not cool_ to use that against me. I'm just living my life, and just because you have these... _feelings_ doesn't mean you can dictate who or what I do with my time. You're just my roommate."

Derek looks horrified for a moment, especially as Stiles says _feelings_ through gritted teeth, but quickly shifts back to a focused anger at Stiles's last addition. "I am your alpha."

Stiles barks out a laugh, because wow. "You know what, fuck you. I'm done with this. Just because I'm part of your pack - by _choice_ , by the way, it's not like I'm one of your stockholmed hairy companions - doesn't mean you get to tell me what to do at home."

"That's not what I meant," Derek says, but he looks angrier than ever. Stiles waits for his eyes to flash red, feeling his heart rate speeding up. "Do what you want with your free time, you don't have to worry about my _feelings_. But when it comes to pack business--"

"Yeah, I get it, jesus christ. I'll stay out of your fucking fur, I'd hate to make the alpha _uncomfortable_." He stops waving his arms around, realizing how stupid he probably looks, and lets them fall to his side. With a sigh, he says, "Clearly this living situation wasn't the best idea." And with that he walks out to his room, unable to handle whatever judging look must be on Derek's face.

******

The next morning, Stiles feels like shit. The anger has faded and he just feels... useless. He's run through every part of last night's argument at least eighteen times, plus a few dozen more in his sleep, and he's almost let himself believe that maybe he'd misread Derek's response. The way he'd said, "We've met," when he saw Jonathan, maybe... maybe he just didn't like this particular guy.

When he overcomes his self-loathing enough to leave his room, though, it's to find two boxes full of some stuff Derek's managed to accrue over the last couple of months. No matter if he was wrong about their argument or not, Derek has obviously decided it's not worth sticking around.

He manages a modicum of gratitude that Derek's not around at the moment to see the disappointment on Stiles's face. He reevaluates his decision to face the world and instead crawls back into bed. He fires off a text to Scott, but that gets no response, so after five minutes of anticipation he throws his phone across the room and goes back to sleep.

******

Stiles definitely doesn't want to get up and deal with his three and a half hours of afternoon classes. He hasn't done the reading or whatever assignments he had, and despite sleeping all day he feels exhausted. But his dad will kill him if he gets kicked out for skipping too much, so he sucks it up and pulls on a hoodie and jeans.

Derek apparently hasn't been back, but Stiles pointedly Does Not Care. He heads to class and zones out through most of the lectures, taking notes robotically and keeping quiet during discussion breaks. One of his professors pulls him aside to ask what's wrong after class, and he apologizes and says he's coming down with something.

He runs into Jonathan on his way out, and maybe it's because he's feeling angry about lying to his favorite professor, or maybe it was the sarcastic way Jonathan took off last night, or maybe it's just everything, but Stiles can't do it anymore. He breaks things off, grateful he doesn't get a 'we weren't even dating' for his trouble, because he's made a decision. Even though things were acceptable, he's decided he'd actually prefer someone who's proud to call him their boyfriend. Jonathan makes some sort of lewd comment about missing some of Stiles's finer parts that actually manages to make Stiles smile for a second, but further proves his point. He'll miss the sex, but he wants more than just that.

He takes his time eating dinner in the cafeteria, thinking about how he's gonna afford rent once Derek takes off, and if he should warn the next guy about his bisexuality from the start. Maybe if he gets desperate enough, Scott will reconsider. He reaches for his phone subconsciously to text him just in case, but then remembers for the twenty-ninth time today that he left it somewhere in his room after throwing it away last night.

He runs through what he's gonna say to Derek over and over while he walks home, but the apartment is dark when he gets there. Stiles wonders bitterly if he's already moved out and is gonna ask Scott to come pick up his boxes.

His phone reminds him of its existence seconds after he gets inside, as it vibrates to indicate low battery from its place halfway behind the dresser. Stiles notices the 10% warning first but is quickly distracted by the five voicemails and 16 text messages he appears to have missed.

A low sense of panic sets in and quickly grows as he reads through increasingly urgent requests for help from Scott, Isaac, and of course, Derek. Members of their pack have gone missing, and the scene looks increasingly more dire as he reads through everything.

He grabs his keys and his charger and is already out the door before he's prompted for his voicemail password.

Derek's voice crackles over the speaker as Stiles starts up the jeep. The voicemail clearly came after he'd missed the first few texts. _Look, forget about our stupid fight for a minute, we need you out here._ There is a pause, but the message isn't over. _Please call me back._

The second voicemail, also from Derek, sounds a little more desperate. After detailing where he needs Stiles to be, his voice cuts down to a quieter level, as if he didn't want anyone to overhear. _If you'd be more comfortable with me moving out, I'll do it, okay? Just please don't abandon us._

Stiles is confused about that for about half a second before the next message starts up, this one from Scott. The same information, and Stiles is already on his way to the address, with a sense that Scott is disappointed in him. It's obvious he thinks Stiles was ignoring Derek's messages on purpose.

The fourth message is a short one from Derek that gets cut off mid-sentence, setting Stiles into a mantra of " _fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_ ," and the last, from Derek's number, but definitely not Derek's voice...

"Looks like you're the last piece of our puzzle, lad," says a gravelly, female voice. "We have the rest of your pack. There's no need for us to kill them all, unless of course you choose not to follow. I believe you've been given the address. And just so you know we mean business," she says, and then there's a scream that is clearly Derek's, and it's like _ripping out his heart_ to hear him in so much pain.

"We'll give you three hours to do this honestly. After that, the rest of your pack will be annihilated, and we'll come after you ourselves. Make the wise choice. Once we can neutralize the threat to our æhteland, I think you'll find we're very good at compromise."

Stiles slams on brakes as he hears the end of the voicemail, because that weird word, he's seen it before. He remembers skimming over it and wondering how to pronounce it. With a quick, nervous glance at the clock, he whips the car around and gets to the nearest wifi hotspot so he can look some things up.

******

After some lightning-fast research and lot of guessing, Stiles figures out where they must be keeping the pack. It's not far from the address Derek and Scott had given him, so he heads to the discovered location, sure the address he has is part of the trap.

Sure enough, as he goes around the back of the weird shack, he finds exactly what he's looking for. He comes in waving a white flag that actually used to be his shirt sleeve, shouting his good intentions and that he comes in peace.

"How did you get here?" the woman from the phone grouses, staring at him in outrage.

Two of her companions immediately wolf out, so Stiles is quick to shout, "We didn't know it was your territory!"

Everything goes still for a second, and Stiles tries not to look at all his friends, tied up and in some cases bleeding. The lady makes a gesture that causes her two bodyguards to back down, her eyes flashing red briefly, then looks at him with eyebrows raised as if to say, "Go on."

"I recognized that word in your voicemail, æhteland. It means this is your territory, but we didn't know that."

"There's no such thing as territories anymore," Derek argues, annoyed.

Stiles stares back at him incredulously. "Seriously? Dude, I'm trying to save our lives right now."

"You shouldn't have come here," he says with guilt in his expression. "You could have saved yourself."

"And let the rest of you die? Look, I know you're the alpha and everything, but they're my pack too."

"Dana," one of the minions interrupts, looking at the female alpha, "aren't you going to do something about this?"

"Why interrupt?" she says with a laugh. "Besides, it looks like this one may have some news for us."

"We didn't know about æhteland, but I did some research and found out about the ancient territories from hundreds of years ago. And how this was one of the first, with the college built right on top."

The minion doesn't seem happy about this. "You act like you didn't know, and yet this one _deliberately_ sabotaged our marker and attacked one of our own on two separate occasions," he says, gesturing at Derek.

"Look, I'm pretty sure this is some kind of massive misunderstanding. We live here, at the college. We thought these were just woods."

"We've been doing our sparring there," Derek explains, "far enough in so that the student body couldn't accidentally stumble in. That's how we destroyed your marker. Everything else was self-defense, in response to your first unbidden attack on me."

"He's lying," the second minion snarls at Derek. "There's no way he didn't know. He shifted into the wolf just outside the west marker and then deliberately crossed over! Jay will back me up on this."

"Jay's not here," Dana snaps. Stiles can sense the hostilities there, but he wisely chooses not to say anything. She advances on Derek, speaking slowly and making a big deal about knowing if he's lying, and then confirms that Derek knows his mistake. Stiles listens quietly as Derek vows that he and his pack will no longer threaten their territory. He spits out his promise through gritted teeth, but Stiles knows he'll stick to it. They can't afford more enemies, especially not ones this efficient.

As they're being untied, Derek seems to calm down a little. Stiles goes to him and helps him stand, trying not to dwell on all the different places he's bleeding.

"We still live here," Derek says, his voice much more level now. "What if we're being threatened?"

"I think we can work something out," Dana says with a smirk. She stares at Stiles for a moment before saying, "Tell you what. Why don't you let this one be your ambassador?"

"His name is Stiles," Derek says, defensive. Stiles is oddly touched. Dana just raises her eyebrows, so Derek finally says, "Fine. We'll talk about an agreement once my pack has fully healed. No one will be harmed on either side. And you let us use some of your land for sparring."

Dana mulls it over for a second before saying, "Deal."

As soon as he's sure it's safe to move, Stiles guides Derek back outside. As much as he's glad his research and plan worked, the adrenaline is starting to wear off, and he needs to be home now. He needs to make sure his friends are okay.

******

Derek needs several days to heal, as he's got by far the worst injuries, so Stiles stores him in his bed where he can keep an eye on him and help him clean up and re-bandage his cuts every so often. They don't speak at all for the first couple of days, but then suddenly as Stiles is finishing up bandaging Derek's arm one of many times, Derek reaches out for Stiles's arm and murmurs, "Thank you."

Stiles swallows thickly and thinks, _well, I guess he's not worried I'm gonna jump him anymore_. He smiles at Derek in response, perhaps a bit too brightly, but Derek smiles back. Stiles thinks maybe they're gonna be okay.

******

" _Yes_ , my new battery is here," Stiles says one afternoon after Derek is back to normal.

"Your what?" Derek asks around a mouthful of roast beef.

"You better have saved some of that for me," Stiles comments as he rips open the package. "My battery. _Yes_ ," he adds as he pulls out a satisfying amount of bubble wrap. That's going to be filling at least the next fifteen minutes of his night. He slides the battery out and inspects it, making sure it matches the one he already has. "I will never again be without my phone, or without charge. From now on, Prepared is my middle name."

Derek quirks an eyebrow. "I thought your middle name was--"

"We agreed never to talk about that."

Derek masks his smile by taking another huge bite of his sandwich, but Stiles knows. He knows.

"You better behave or I'm not going to watch the next episode of Sherlock with you. Nope, don't give me that look, we both know you still haven't figured out the TiVo."

"Just because you won't _let_ me--"

"You deleted a _season finale_. Before I'd seen it! You thereby lost your remote privileges."

Derek rolls his eyes.

Later, when they're watching that next episode of Sherlock (because Stiles is a man of his word), Derek reaches across his lap and grabs the remote before Stiles can figure out what's happening.

Stiles sputters his protest, reaching out to take it back by default, but Derek holds it away. Stiles decides he's not going to demean himself to the level of stretching ridiculously for the remote when Derek obviously can keep it away from him, so instead he goes for the obviously much more mature response of pouting.

Derek huffs a laugh and hands the remote back. "I just wanted you to know that if I _wanted_ to take it back that I _could_."

Stiles mocks Derek's response and glares at his arrogant little smirk, but inside his head he's asking why he's so turned on by what just happened. He returns his attention to the show in favor of dwelling on it.

"Man, that guy has got some cheekbones," Stiles murmurs reverently a bit later, staring at Benedict Cumberbatch.

Derek hums. "He is very attractive."

"Right? Just look at him," Stiles says by default, then realizes with a jolt that this is not Scott, his best friend who puts up with his shallow observations of every character in everything ever made, but Derek, who apparently finds at least one man attractive.

"He's got nice hands," Derek muses, and Stiles concentrates very hard on not losing his shit.

He thinks very carefully before, hesitantly, continuing. "Jonny Lee Miller, though, he's like... whoa."

Derek makes his disagreeable face that makes Stiles curse inwardly, _too far, shit_ , but then he says, "They're very different types, it doesn't seem like an accurate comparison."

Stiles laughs, only a little nervously. "Clearly you've never played Fuck, Marry, Kill."

Derek looks intrigued, but clearly lost, so Stiles explains the game by example. "So in this case, you choose which one you'd fuck - Jonny Lee Miller, which you'd marry - Robert Downey Jr., obviously, and which you'd kill. You can decide them in any order, but one to fuck, one to marry, one to kill."

Derek stares back, expressionless, for long enough that Stiles isn't sure he got it. Finally, though, he says, "I can't believe you'd kill Benedict Cumberbatch."

Stiles licks his lips. "It's all hypothetical. It's not a moral issue, if that's what you're--"

"I didn't say that it was."

"Right."

As they continue to prompt different groups of people in between watching the show, Stiles forgets why he was so nervous about this in the first place. It isn't until he prompts Derek with the original team from _House_ \-- Cameron, Chase, and Foreman -- and Derek axes Cameron that he realizes, whoa. There's a very real possibility that Derek actually likes guys.

He confirms it later when he's arguing with Derek's choice to give Bill Hader the axe, and Derek says, "I dated a guy in college that looked a lot like him. It'd be weird."

Stiles is shocked into silence for a moment. "Oh, well. Can't argue with that."

Needing some time to process this new information, Stiles suggests they follow up that episode of _Sherlock_ with an episode of that new show _Elementary_. He personally prefers it to _Sherlock_ because he thinks Lucy Liu kicks _ass_ , but he knows Derek likes _Sherlock_ better because it matches up so well with the stories. Derek agrees to watching it, though, and Stiles doesn't come up with any more FMK scenarios for the night.

******

It's like he's living in a whole new world knowing that Derek's also into guys. Because not only does he feel completely relieved about the argument they'd had earlier in the semester, but they have this unspoken thing in common now. And his stupid little crush is -- well, that's not actually any better, because his fantasies have decided to ramp up, and it's not like he's going to _act_ on them, but facing Derek the next morning is always just the slightest bit nerve-wracking.

One morning, when he's feeling punchy for some reason, Stiles curls his hand into a fist under the table (for courage!) and asks casually, "So, have you been seeing anyone recently?"

He tries really hard to keep up the casual nonchalance, but Derek takes forever to answer so he eventually has to look up from the textbook he probably should be reading instead of staring at Derek to see his reaction.

Derek's expression is one of mild confusion, possibly irritation. His mouth is slightly open as if he started to answer, but stopped again. When Stiles finds himself staring at said mouth, he shakes himself out of it and raises his eyebrows, prompting Derek to respond, "I wouldn't feel comfortable bringing a stranger into the pack's territory."

"Oh," Stiles says, feeling a bit deflated. He's not sure whether he's relieved or not. He'd kind of been hoping to hear about a guy that Derek dated for a couple of weeks like a year ago that he never sees anymore but still _exists_ to prove that Stiles didn't dream their stupid game the other night.

Derek clears his throat and sets his spoon down. He's got Serious Face, so Stiles braces for impact. "Look, there's something you should know about your friend Jonathan."

Well, that's definitely the last thing Stiles expected to hear. "We broke up."

"Oh," Derek says, his eyebrows going up in surprise. "I'm... sorry to hear that."

Stiles pulls his textbook into his lap as if to remind himself he does have a test in three hours, and he probably should be studying. "No, don't be. We wanted kinda different things."

He reads an entire paragraph, enough to think _shit, I'm never going to pass this exam_ , before Derek comes back with, "I think he's a hunter."

Well, so much for studying. He snaps the book shut and fixes Derek with a level look. "Are you sure?"

"He shot me with an arrow."

Stiles nods. "So pretty sure."

"He didn't know it was me. I was in the woods, as the wolf."

"Maybe he's just into archery, you know, that's kind of big these days what with _The Hunger Games_ and whatnot. Maybe you startled him."

Derek shakes his head. "I could smell his intent. This was no accident."

Stiles nods. "It's official, I have the worst taste in men."

Derek's face softens into almost a smile. "You didn't know. I encountered him after I healed to try to get a feel for what he knew, but it was the biggest waste of time."

"He hit on you, didn't he?"

"Yes, but not in a normal way," Derek says, indignant. "Every time I tried to steer it back to relevant information he'd come closer and start touching. As distraction tactics go, he was really well-trained."

"Yeah, I don't think that was training. Man, why does nobody ever have a crush on _me_?" Derek looks completely confused at that, so Stiles goes on, "What? No, I mean, he and I... he never would've hit on me like that when we first met, I was totally the annoying pushy one in our relationship."

Stiles swallows, pressing on. "Literally, I once had to push him out of a party because he was too drunk or too stubborn to realize it was time to go."

Stiles laughs to fill the silence as Derek looks pensive, and stares at his book, thinking it may be time to exit stage right and actually get some studying done.

Derek breaks the silence, though, saying, "There are more people who find you attractive than you think."

Stiles stills with his hand over the book's cover. He flits through a few different reactions in his head, _Oh yeah? Name one_ , _You're fucking with me, right?_ , before deciding on, "What, can you smell it on them?"

Derek's expression darkens. _Good work, Stiles. Best answer._ "Sometimes things are obvious to anyone with eyes and half a brain." He says it with this weird cadence that makes Stiles think it's a quote, and it sounds oddly like something Lydia would say. That throws Stiles off for a second. Despite the stiff way he stands up and takes his bowl to the sink, Derek's tone is much less harsh when he continues, "Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I didn't, I mean, I don't-- just--" Stiles clears his throat and wills the unruly blush on his face to go away. At least Derek isn't facing him, instead rinsing out his bowl in the sink. Stiles forces himself to relax in the chair as the water shuts off and says, "I mean, that's cool. Yeah. So, anything I need to do about Jonathan?"

Derek pats him on the shoulder twice. "Just be careful."

Stiles watches Derek make his way back to his room in those ridiculous Sherlock Holmes pajama pants he'd bought him and thinks, _Yeah, good advice_.

******

The next Friday, they're sitting at the desk watching _The Cabin in the Woods_ on Stiles's laptop on a different day from their usual movie night, because Stiles wants to celebrate probably passing most of his midterms and Derek, well, he didn't say no. Stiles is crammed into the uncomfortable extra metal chair because they take turns with the comfy desk chair Stiles got from IKEA last month, but Stiles is hardly noticing at the moment because this movie is even better than he'd been led to believe.

Stiles identifies early on with Marty, mainly because he's kind of in love with Fran Kranz from his Dollhouse days, and Derek is putting up with his commentary like he always does.

He doesn't think he's ever felt happier, though, than when he happens to be glancing at Derek when Marty mistakes a stuffed wolf head for a moose. Derek is hit by such sudden and unexpected laughter that his whole face contorts. "Yep, he's clearly you, Stiles," Derek says through his laughter.

Stiles smiles to himself, happy to know what it looks like when laughter catches Derek by surprise. He's splitting his focus between the movie and Derek, but he does murmur in response, "Hey, when the wind is southerly, I know a moose from a wolf head."

An indeterminate amount of time later, when Stiles is almost completely engrossed in the movie and hit by his own surprise laughter, he glances at Derek and finds him staring back with an intensity usually reserved for pack business. He feels punchy enough to comment telling Derek to chill, but he never gets a chance because Derek's look turns resolute and suddenly he leans in and presses a soft kiss to Stiles's lips before Stiles can even begin to process what's happening.

Derek pulls back just as fast as he'd moved in, and Stiles has to fight not to flail like he's lost control of his limbs because his heart is pounding so hard and fast that he _knows_ Derek must hear it and he _wants_ , he wants so badly that he just has to know what the look is on Derek's face before he can even-- and so they just stare at each other for a second, the movie just white noise in the background as Stiles confirms he isn't actually dreaming, and just as he's convinced himself it wouldn't matter if he was, Derek's expression hardens and the wheels on the nice desk chair roll further away from Stiles, which is exactly the wrong direction.

The metal chair scrapes the floor as Stiles works to make up the distance, and maybe he doesn't have wolf powers on his side, but he doesn't waste any time. He's half out of his chair and hunched over kind of awkwardly but Derek wouldn't have rolled away if this was a dream, which means that desire in Derek's expression is _real_ and it's for _him_ and so he grabs Derek's face and kisses back so hard that their teeth clash at first.

It only stings for a second, though, and reinforces Stiles's the fact that it's real, so Stiles can't even be mad at himself. Derek tilts his head back and lets Stiles move in for the next kiss, and it's good, it's all so good.

The stupid desk chair keeps trying to move Derek that little bit further away, so Stiles finally gives it up and _pulls_ Derek out of it by his shirt and Derek actually _follows_ which is the hottest thing Stiles thinks has ever happened to him. At least until the next moment when Derek lets him pin him against the desk, making the most amazing guttural noise as Stiles bites at his lip.

  
  
art by [elruu](http://elruu.deviantart.com)  


Stiles takes a five-second interlude to reach around and pause the movie, because he still hasn't _seen_ it, and that's what pause buttons are for, but he quickly gets back on task.

He realizes that Derek's hands are kind of awkwardly hovering in the space between their bodies. "Dude, you're allowed to touch me, I want you to touch me," he says with a laugh, guiding Derek's hands to his waist.

"Shut up," Derek says as he pulls Stiles in and cuts off his laugh in the best way. His fingers are warm where they've slipped under Stiles's shirt, but he loosens his grip and lets Stiles take over the kiss, going with it and even helping holding Stiles up when he inadvertently starts to climb Derek like a tree.

Eventually Stiles has to stop and just breathe for a second, and it occurs to him that Derek is actually letting him be in control, which is definitely, _definitely_ the hottest thing Stiles has ever had happen to him. "God, this is actually happening, isn't it? Pinch me, I just want to be sure."

Derek doesn't, in fact, pinch him, so Stiles pinches him instead, on the back, just above the waistband of his jeans. Derek does this little jump and says his name like a warning, but all that does is make Stiles start giggling like a fool. Derek gives him this look of bewilderment, licking his lips before quietly saying, "I can't believe you actually want this."

And Stiles just keeps giggling because seriously? That's his line. And because he's been thinking about it this whole time, he tilts his head and latches on to Derek's neck, licking and biting at the inviting hot skin there.

He actually _hears_ Derek's breath hitch and his grip loosens enough that Stiles has to shift his weight, and he makes a mental note: _Biting the neck: gets a reaction_. He huffs a laugh against Derek's skin and lets his hands slide their way up Derek's back to where he knows that tattoo is, enjoying the feeling of skin under his fingers and the way Derek makes these encouraging noises as he moves.

But then Derek sort of stiffens and says, "Wait." And this fear of rejection grips Stiles for a second, he can sense it, so that even as he lets Derek push him back half a step, he's already coming up with the excuses he can use to make Derek stay, just as roommates. And Stiles is just staring at that red mark on his neck for a second until Derek sighs and says, "You can't do this Stiles. I'm your alpha."

And just like that Stiles is flooded with relief and then anger and then almost amusement, because okay. He's heard the spiel. Derek's the alpha, it's his life, he's not allowed to think of himself before his pack. But _that_ has nothing to do with _this_ , with Derek apparently genuinely returning Stiles's feelings, and Stiles intends to tell him so. "Look, I don't care what you are when you're out there," Stiles says, flailing dramatically toward the window, "but when you're in _here_ you're _mine_."

And he immediately regrets saying it that way, because what if Derek doesn't want that, or maybe this was some werewolfy Pon Farr thing, god, he doesn't know. He shouldn't just assume because they made out that they both want the same thing. Sure, Derek has heard Stiles's rant about wanting a real relationship or nothing at all, but that doesn't mean anything. So he clears his throat as he stares at Derek's unchanging expression and says, "I mean, not like the coffee maker and the TV remote are mine, because you know, that's not up for discussion."

And Derek's expression finally shifts, his eyes crinkling as he chuckles, just watching Stiles. At first Stiles is kind of confused, because he half-expects Derek to be laughing at him, but he knows Derek's mean laugh and that isn't it at all, and then he realizes Derek is just laughing at Stiles's terrible attempt at a mood-lightening joke.

The tense feeling in his chest isn't quite so tense now that Derek's smiling, so Stiles relaxes his shoulders and says, "So are we gonna keep making out or what?"

Derek stares at Stiles's mouth for a second and then ducks his head, still smiling, and Stiles starts to realize he's actually _shy_ about this stuff.

"What's the matter, wolf got your tongue?"

Derek looks back up at him then, his faced fixed in an unimpressed look that is clearly hiding a smile. "Really?"

And then Stiles watches Derek's eyes slip down to his mouth as Stiles licks his lips. And then he blushes, which is the last straw.

"Oh my god," Stiles says, cackling. "You really do want me. The big bad wolf has feelings, ladies and gentlemen!" he announces to nobody, starting to do a little dance as Derek laughs incredulously. He somehow picks up a tune he thinks he may have stolen from _The Emperor's New Groove_ and improvises a little song about it to go with his dance.

He's halfway across the living room now, but Derek is still laughing, and Stiles feels so _good_. "Go on, admit it. Say you like me."

Derek meets him in the middle of the room, right where that damn coffee table would be if Derek would let him buy it. "Less and less with every passing second."

"Liar," Stiles says, and pulls him onto the couch. Derek comes willingly and settles on top of Stiles, but it's obvious he's waiting for Stiles to make the first move. So Stiles schools his expression into the most serious one he can muster and says, "Last chance to back out. Your safe word is 'tax exemption'."

He pauses so that Derek has a chance to say it, and after about five endless seconds, Derek's smile breaks back out in full force and he says with a laugh, "That's two words, you idiot."

Stiles smiles like he's just been handed a lottery check and pulls Derek down by his neck until their lips meet. They pick up right where they left off, with Stiles rucking up Derek's shirt and Derek slowly, hesitantly letting his hands make their way across Stiles's body.

And things are just starting to get _really_ good, even though Derek is obviously taking it slow, it's still the best makeout session Stiles has ever been a part of, when he feels Derek tense up again.

Before Stiles can finish thinking _oh no_ , Derek leans back and wide-eyed, says, "Scott."

"What?" Stiles says, about to be offended, as Derek jumps off the couch and yanks his shirt down. In the next second, their door slams open with the usual force of a cheap apartment door, and Stiles gets what just happened as Scott bounds his way in. 

"Hey guys, how's it going?" Scott says as he barely looks at them and heads straight for the kitchen. 

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asks as he quickly stands up and tries to do his own shirt-straightening. He glares at Derek's amused look. Scott is already going through their fridge. "I could have been busy, you know. I could've had company! You should've called, man." 

"Oh please," Scott says around the stick of cheese he's already got in his mouth. "You've been talking about your movie night all week; I knew you'd be here." 

And Stiles huffs and tries not to look at Derek because maybe they're makeout buddies now, but Derek doesn't need to _know_ that their movie night is the highlight of his week. But then he does look and Derek's sort of smiling to himself, his look almost teasing, and Stiles can't really be mad. 

"My plans could've changed!" he points out, because actually, they kind of did. 

"Yeah right," Scott says as he hip checks the fridge door to close it. "What are you guys watching anyway?" 

And Stiles can only stare at him for a second, because his mind is suddenly completely blank of everything but Derek's mouth. 

" _The Cabin in the Woods_ ," Derek answers, shooting Stiles an amused look. 

"Oh cool, I haven't seen that," Scott says, then stares at Stiles for a second. "Dude, what's up with you?" 

Stiles huffs. "You're ruining movie night, man, we can't keep watching with you here unless we start over from the beginning. I don't want to spoil it for you." 

"Dude, chill," Scott says with a laugh. "I just stopped by to get my leftovers from dinner the other night." 

"We need to talk about you using our kitchen as the pack kitchen. Doesn't Isaac have a fridge?" 

"Your place is closer to the diner," Scott defends. 

Stiles fights the impulse to argue. He's still a little hurt that Scott decided to move into Isaac's place instead of getting the apartment with him, even though he knows Isaac is letting him live there rent-free. It's possible he's just jealous of that last bit though. 

"Well, enjoy the movie. I'll see you later?" he says at Stiles, who nods. He can't think past the next five minutes now that he knows Scott's leaving, but he's sure a nod is an adequate response. 

He walks awkwardly over to the desk to backtrack the movie a bit, to before they got distracted. He hovers awkwardly without sitting down, not sure if it's safe to assume they'd keep making out or if Derek wouldn't mind finishing the movie. They can't do both, not at the same time, because this movie's too good to only see parts of. 

But suddenly Derek is there, taking the computer off the desk and walking it back over to the couch. He sets the computer on one end and then sits on the other, facing the computer, and gestures for Stiles to join him. "Come on, let's finish the movie first. I know it's important to you." 

Stiles beams because wow, Derek _gets_ him. He settles in the space in front of Derek, and it's kind of an awkward angle, but still worth it once Derek's arms are bracketed around him. "This is why we need a coffee table," he murmurs since this is the perfect opportunity to mention it, but Derek just laughs as Stiles unpauses the movie. 

Stiles is so glad that this is the movie they were watching when Derek kissed him, because it's _so good_ and now he can hear and even feel every time Derek laughs behind him. He's so psyched about the ending that he immediately thinks of the TV Tropes page, which must be epic, and he pulls the laptop into his lap to look it up. 

Derek laughs as Stiles reads through some of the best ones. He's still explaining what 'Buffy speak' is when he's cut short by Derek's mouth on the back of his neck. 

"Keep going," Derek encourages, but then he keeps on going, and his hands are at Stiles's sides, and he reads about 1.5 more tropes before he can no longer justify it; the tropes aren't going anywhere, but this is happening _now_. 

They pick up where they left off easily enough, except with Stiles leaning heavily on top of Derek this time on the couch. Stiles lets his hands roam freely, but takes note when Derek tenses up as his hands get closer to his waistband. Making a mental note to talk about boundaries later, he satisfies himself with makeouts for now, and they continue long enough that Stiles finds himself backing off long enough to yawn. 

Derek chuckles up at him and Stiles tries to swat him in response, but he's hit with another stupid yawn. 

"Maybe we should go to bed," Derek suggests. 

"I guess," Stiles says, but he doesn't want this to end. "You know, my bed is pretty big." 

Derek nods. "It is." 

"And you do sleep better in my bed." 

A longer pause before Derek says, "I do." 

"Good! So we're in agreement." Derek looks hesitant, so he clarifies, "Just for sleeping." 

"Okay," Derek finally answers. Stiles pulls him to bed and falls asleep with the smile never leaving his face. 

****** 

"I need you to help me not freak out about something," Stiles says over the phone the next afternoon before Scott can even finish saying hello. 

"Okay, what are we not freaking out about?" Scott answers. 

Stiles pauses, considering. "Is Isaac around?" 

"No, he's got a lacrosse thing." 

"And you're not there?" 

"It's just practice." 

"…And you're not there?" 

"Dude," Scott says, a little bit annoyed. Now that Stiles has a little more clarity, it seems obvious that Scott and Isaac do everything together. And the fact that he doesn't have territorial feelings about his best friend replacing him makes him wonder if something bigger is going on. "Is this what we're not freaking out about?" Scott asks. 

"No. I'll be there in 10 minutes. Don't go anywhere." 

****** 

When he gets to Isaac's house, Scott looks kind of terrible. 

"Dude, you look kind of terrible." 

"Didn't get much sleep last night," Scott says around a yawn, leading the way to the kitchen. "Stayed up with Isaac." 

"Interesting," Stiles says. He definitely needs to pay more attention. "Was it good for you? Because you know you can't really judge the first time--" 

"Shut up," Scott interrupts, tossing him a Mountain Dew from the fridge. "He was writing a paper. I was just being the supportive friend." 

"By distracting him with Halo." 

Scott scoffs. "Like we did any better in high school." 

"Fair enough," Stiles admits. He turns the Mountain Dew around and around on the counter in front of him. "So I may have made out with Derek last night." 

"What?!" Scott says before promptly hitting Stiles on the back of the head. He ignores Stiles's indignant _ow!_ and continues, "What the hell, dude? Why didn't you lead with that?" 

"Because I'm trying not to think about it! Only it's all I can think about, jesus christ, his mouth…" 

"Okay, let's not go there," Scott says, interrupting his train of thought. 

"Oh come on, that's the only good place I _can_ go." 

"So you made out. What's the problem? Did he take off or something? Wash his mouth out with soap after?" 

"Shut up," Stiles says with a laugh, shoving at Scott. "No, he was… I mean we slept, like next-to-each-other together, and he was still there this morning, which was nice." 

There had been more makeouts. Stiles had made a stupid joke about morning breath and Derek's smile was _right there_ and it had been the best morning Stiles can remember. 

"Dude, come back," Scott says, derailing him again. "I'm still not seeing the problem." 

Stiles shakes his head to clear it. "Just, he's gonna bolt, right? It's only a matter of time. And then I'll be out a roommate. D'you think Isaac would let me move in here? I'd totally stay out of your way." 

"Come on, man. Don't be stupid." 

"No, you're right, I'd definitely be in your way. Maybe the basement? I'd have to make it less creepy and bdsm-y, but--" 

"What makes you think he's going to bolt?" 

Stiles shrugs. "'Cause it's me?" 

Scott stares at him for a second. "What made you decide to kiss him?" 

"Um," Stiles says eloquently. When Scott just raises his eyebrows, he continues, "Well, uh, I guess he kinda kissed me first." 

"Wait, did this happen last night? Jesus fuck Stiles, you should have just given me the signal, I would've left you alone to make out!" 

"What signal? We don't have a signal!" 

"Well clearly we're going to need one. No wonder you were acting so weird." 

Stiles feels a dopey smile spreading across his face as he remembers Derek's distractions while Stiles browsed the TV Tropes page. The thought that Derek couldn't wait for Stiles's attention to be back on him was just-- 

"See? Whatever you're thinking about now, that's what you need to think about. You guys looked so fucking happy last night, I thought you had a stash somewhere you weren't telling me about. You're just thinking too much about this." 

"Yeah but, what if he does try to bolt?" 

Scott shrugs. "You go after him." 

Stiles shoots him a deadpan look. "Wow, you get that off a greeting card?" 

Scott laughs easily, making Stiles laugh with him, and he definitely feels a little less stressed. "Seriously, I don't think you need to worry. Isaac's been saying that you two were gonna end up together for weeks now. He thought it was obvious Derek was into you." 

"Yeah? Huh," Stiles says, thinking back on pack meetings and wondering what he might've missed. And then he stops. "Thanks for telling _me_ , asshole." 

"I thought he was crazy. But I'm glad to be proven wrong!" he adds quickly, hands up in defense. "I'm happy for you, man. You seem really happy." 

"Yeah," Stiles says, complete with dopey smile, "yeah, thanks, me too." 

****** 

As the weeks go on, Stiles is mostly successful on the not-freaking-out front. Not much has changed, really, except that in addition to their usual TV watching and video game playing, they also work in some time to make out. It's definitely an update he doesn't mind dealing with, even if it does make it harder to keep up with classes and pack business. 

Some things do seem to fall by the wayside, though, as evidenced by Scott showing up on his doorstep one night with a gay crisis. 

"It's not a gay crisis," Scott argues. 

"You're wigging out about your feelings for Isaac. That's a gay crisis." 

After a few minutes of real talk in which Stiles pretends to know what he's talking about and hopefully gives some good advice, Scott suggests they play MarioKart, which is obviously the best decision. Scott is currently kicking his ass way too hard on Rainbow Road when suddenly somebody bangs into the apartment. 

"Does no one knock, ever?" Stiles says without looking up, noting with some satisfaction that Scott's character has fallen behind again. 

"Dude, what did you do?" Scott says, and Stiles realizes that their game is over because Isaac's the one at the door, and his face is bleeding. 

Derek comes out of their bedroom as if he's been summoned, obviously in pack mode as he walks in and says, "What happened?" 

"I'm fine," Isaac says. Stiles hurries him inside and closes the door, anxious to find out what happened. 

"I can see that you're fine," Derek says. "What happened?" 

"I got into a fight with another wolf. And no, it wasn't in Dana's territory, but I don't know if I'd be here in one piece if it wasn't for them. Their pack intervened, some guy with a crossbow got the other wolf off my back." 

"Crossbow?" Stiles repeats as Derek stands at full alert and asks, "Did he have a tattoo on his wrist?" 

"Yeah," Isaac says. "'Jay.' He's part of Dana's pack. He made sure I was okay, sent me off." 

"What the actual fuck," Stiles says, but Derek talks over him, "We've encountered him before. His real name is Jonathan." 

Stiles can only stare at Derek, his head filled with a hundred questions that it's possible none of them have the answers to. Had he just been bait so that Dana's pack could get to Derek? Did Jonathan even know about Derek when they met? 

"Why would they intervene?" Scott asks. "They made it pretty clear they wanted as little to do with our pack as possible." 

"There's nothing in the pact against it," Isaac says. 

"We're gonna need you to go talk to them," Derek says, and it takes Stiles a second to realize that's directed at him. 

"Oh, right. Ambassador. That's me," he says with a weak laugh. "I'll amb their asses right off." 

Derek stares at him for a second, expression unreadable, and then looks back at Isaac. "I think we can take it from here. What else can you tell us?" 

Isaac thinks for a second. "It all went down pretty quickly. I didn't get a good look at the guy that attacked me, but I'm pretty sure he's an omega. He left pretty quickly after Dana's guys showed up." He pauses and stares into empty space. "He just caught me off-guard. He seemed weak, and I played it the wrong way." 

Derek nods. "We can work it in to your sparring later." 

"Yeah. Well, I should probably head home." Isaac looks at Scott. "You stayin' here tonight?" 

Scott looks torn and shoots a look at Stiles, who does his best to encourage Scott telepathically to go back and talk to the guy. When he eventually agrees to do so, Stiles waits until Isaac's not looking to give him a thumbs up. They go through the motions of their latest handshake before Scott and Isaac head out. 

A part of Stiles seems to deflate as soon as the door shuts, and to his surprise Derek is there at his side in a flash. 

"I'm going with you to meet with them," Derek says immediately. He draws Stiles close with his hands on his hips, and Stiles lets himself fall into Derek's chest. 

"I don't know why I bother to trust anybody," Stiles mumbles into Derek's collarbone. He winds his arms around Derek's back and sighs as Derek does the same. He's content for now just to stand like this. 

After a while, Derek speaks up. "The last person I want to defend is your ex-boyfriend," he says, ignoring Stiles's immediate protest that they weren't boyfriends, "but I'm pretty sure they didn't know about you until the night we were kidnapped. It was my own stupid mistake that led them to you in the first place." 

"You better not be qualifying calling me as a stupid mistake," Stiles warns, and feels a little better when he can feel Derek's laugh up close and personal. 

"I could have been more aware of my surroundings when I was calling you, though." 

Stiles tilts his head up and meets Derek's gaze. "Nice save." 

Derek gives him a small smile before leaning in for a kiss, which Stiles is happy to allow. Maybe he shouldn't have trusted some random not-boyfriend, but he thinks maybe this time he's lucked out. 

****** 

Stiles is on his way back to the apartment with a freshly-completed torrent of _Common Law_ and a spring in his step. He's heard good things about the show and he's excited to watch it with Derek. Best of all, his next morning's class was canceled, so they can stay up all night, marathoning the show or… y'know, whatever. 

Not that Stiles plans to rush Derek into anything. Just, maybe he can see where the night leads. 

Except when he walks up to the door, something seems off. The door is unlocked, but Derek's not there, and their signal for Derek out on pack business is nowhere to be seen. Stiles frowns and checks his phone, but he hasn't missed anything. A quick call to Derek goes straight to voicemail. 

That slightly-off feeling progresses straight past worry into slight panic when Stiles finds Derek's phone sitting on the kitchen counter. And there are scuff marks on the floor. "Oh god no, no this isn't happening," Stiles starts to chant, and he crouches down to stare at the scuff marks even though he knows he's not fucking Aragorn, they're not gonna tell him anything except that a shoe was once here. As luck would have it, though, when he gets down to floor level he spots an old receipt that seems to have been kicked under the cabinet. 

It's a long shot, but Stiles is willing to give anything a try. He fires off a call to Scott for back-up but tells him he's not waiting, that he's going straight there. 

He follows the address to a decrepit gas station outside of town, but his hopes of asking anyone about the receipt he found plummet when he sees the boards on the windows. If they were open earlier in the month to sell this person Cheetos, it was probably the last purchase they sold. 

Stiles thunks his head down on the steering wheel in defeat. Unfortunately, he does it too hard and hurts his forehead, which really just figures. He sighs and slips down in his seat, figuring he should still wait here for Scott. Maybe if they go back together, Scott can figure some stuff out with scents or whatever-the-fuck. Maybe they'll get back and Derek will be there rubbing the scuff off the hardwood, all of this a stupid misunderstanding. Stiles doubts that, but he can hope. 

He's not sure what makes him get out of the car. Mostly he's just feeling restless. Scott didn't mention how long he'd be, and this is the sort of place they used to love to explore when they were kids. He's surprised when the door gives easily, and the surprise gives way to shock when he sees the body, hunched over with scratch marks all around, and even though it's more wolf than human, he knows immediately that it's Derek. 

The wolf rears and snaps as Stiles approaches, but his bonds are tight enough that he doesn't get close. Stiles takes a second to get his breath, and then, feeling ridiculous, he crouches like he's approaching a random stray. 

"Derek? It's me. Stiles," he says, inching slowly closer and extending his hand carefully. Derek's eyes focus on his hand, and he keeps snarling, but it's less pronounced. Stiles notes that in addition to the ropes tying him in place, there's a loop of something tied like a gag. He curses inwardly as he recognizes wolfsbane. In order to get Derek out of his current state, he's going to have to get that close and remove it from his mouth. 

He stays still long enough for Derek to calm down, then continues his slow approach in intervals. When he's close enough for it to be properly dangerous, he reaches out and waits. "C'mon, Derek," he murmurs. "It's me. You know me, you know my like, scent or whatever. Come on." 

The wolf smells him, and Stiles swears he sees a flash of recognition. 

"Okay, I'm gonna try to untie this thing now," he says, reaching for the chain of wolfsbane on the wolf's neck. When he lowers his head, Stiles wants to scream his disbelief that this is working, but he knows better. There'll be time for that later. 

He gets the chain untied and tosses it across the room, slowly backing away as the wolf just stares at him. He doesn't realize he's holding his breath until he starts to feel lightheaded, and he breathes in heavily just in time to hear, "Stiles." 

Derek's still got qualities of the wolf about him, but he's definitely coming back. "Oh god, you're okay, you're actually okay." 

"I think I've been drugged." 

"You're almost okay," Stiles amends, stepping up to help him free of his bonds. "Did you see who took you?" 

Derek shakes his head. By the time Stiles gets his second hand free, the claws are starting to retract, but Derek sags heavily against him. Under normal circumstances Stiles would be down for that. 

"If I thought you'd let me get away with it, I'd totally be carrying you out bridal style," Stiles comments as he leads Derek out the door. Derek doesn't say anything. "Can we talk about how scarily this place resembles the one from _Cabin in the Woods_? Heh, it'd be funny if it weren't completely horrifying." 

"In the Jeep," Derek grits, and Stiles shuts up quickly. He loads Derek in and starts up the car in a rush, only to be stopped by Derek saying, "Hey." 

He motions for Stiles to come closer, and Stiles doesn't need much convincing. He leans into Derek's kiss for the brief moments it lasts, knowing that they should be in a hurry but needing this moment for themselves. 

"Now go," Derek says, and Stiles nods. 

"Can you call Scott? He was supposed to be on his way. Or should I wait and do it when we get home?" 

"I'm not too weak to hold a cell phone, Stiles," Derek says irritably, but he fumbles with it when Stiles hands it over. His warning look does nothing to diminish Stiles's smirk. 

Back at the apartment, Derek admits he didn't see or even sense anyone before he was knocked out. "Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing. And they knew to find me here." 

They're both a little weary that it was so easy for Stiles to find him and even easier to get Derek out. "I hate to say it was too easy because the universe will compensate by making something ten times worse happen, but I'm a little worried it was too easy." 

Derek's solemn blinking seems unimpressed. "Way to stick to your guns. But I agree. There's no obvious reason for taking me and leaving me there alone." 

Stiles sighs and gets up in search of his phone. "Should I start making the rounds to call everyone in?" 

Derek takes long enough to answer that Stiles looks back at him. He looks confused. "I thought we were watching _Common Law_ tonight." 

"Well yeah, but," Stiles huffs a laugh, "that was before you got kidnapped and drugged. I figured you'd want to call in the guys and gals and come up with a game plan." 

Derek shakes his head and pats the spot next to him on the couch. "We already have plans. We can touch base with the pack tomorrow. Besides, I should take some time to get my strength back." 

"No better way to do that than with cop boyfriends," Stiles agrees as he sets up the laptop. He's actually really happy with Derek's decision, but he tries not to show it too much. He knows usually the pack comes before everything, and he doesn't want to jinx it. "I'm still going to send out a group text to make sure everyone's okay." 

Suddenly he's being pulled back from the laptop, Derek stretching his shirt, but Stiles doesn't even begin to complain about that because Derek's mouth is on his in a tender kiss that quickly turns dirtier. Stiles hums his happiness into the kiss and wrestles his tongue against Derek's in the way he knows Derek likes. When they eventually break apart and Stiles's shirt is even more askew, he has to ask, "What did I do to deserve that?" 

Derek shrugs. "I just like it when you're part of the pack." 

Stiles smiles. "I'm always part of the pack." 

"I know." Derek stares ahead at the computer instead of looking at Stiles. "It's nice to be reminded." 

_Huh_ , Stiles thinks, before promptly putting it out of his head. 

****** 

Before anything else can happen, it's winter term exam time and Stiles can't worry about much else. Midterms were a cakewalk compared to this. He can't even watch the mid-season finale of _Castle_ because he has his psych exam the next morning at 9 AM and has seemed to forget everything he's even learned. Derek understands, though. If their roles were reversed Stiles would probably have a tantrum at having to wait, but that's different. 

It's stressful, but he takes one exam and then the other, and then bam! Exams are over! Stiles survived! 

It's a miracle, really, because one night early in the week, he'd realized that his first kiss with Derek had happened when Stiles was celebrating midterms being over, and soon he was going to celebrate _finals_ being over, and wouldn't it be fitting if something happened then too? Something next step-like? So he'd started dropping hints, and when Derek didn't shut him down, he kind of needed it to happen ASAP. Talk about motivation to study; the sooner finals were over the better. This method may have backfired a little when he'd get so sidetracked studying that needed, um, a break or two. 

But now finals are over and tonight's the night! It's freezing out, but he feels _great_ , so he walks down to the Target to buy supplies (just in case; he's got stuff, sure, but who knows how the expiration is). He even spots some candles on sale that smell really awesome, and he can't help but toss those in the basket too. 

Fifteen minutes into their date, though, Erica calls with a lead on the guy that kidnapped Derek, and everything else gets put on hold. It's a solid three hours of chasing ghosts that goes nowhere, and Stiles can't help but feel that their plans were ruined for nothing. And to make matters worse, now they have to have a debrief at the apartment. What bozo agreed to let their apartment be Wolf HQ? Oh right, it was him. 

"Dude, why have you not been sleeping in your bed?" Boyd calls from their little side hallway, and Stiles slowly remembers that he'd asked Derek to borrow a shirt. He's just processing that Boyd is moving toward his room and gets halfway to shouting not to go in there, but it's too late, Boyd's got the door open, the candles are all over the place and Stiles's life is over. 

No, okay, it's not over until Boyd _calls everyone over_ and they all get a look in on his shame. "Wait, Derek and Stiles…?" 

"I knew it," Lydia mumbles and shares a look with Allison. 

"I actually did," Isaac says proudly, and Stiles voices his offense. 

"Dude, you told Isaac?" he accuses Scott. 

"He was always making jokes about you two, I couldn't help it! He just… guessed!" 

Erica and Boyd are at least surprised at the news, but their general reaction is, "Wow, I should have seen that coming," which isn't much better. 

The teasing commences immediately, and Stiles is sure his sex life has been ruined forever. He's never going to live this down. He meets every line with an equally ridiculous comeback, but the slow spiral of embarrassment is digging deeper and deeper. 

Eventually, Derek puts his foot down and gets them back to business, and Stiles has never been more grateful. Except as they go through what they know, he notices Derek is acting really strange. Like he's always different when he's in alpha mode, sure, but he's never this… stiff. 

By the time they wrap everything up and everyone leaves, Stiles is _sure_ something's up, and any hope he has that it's just Derek's way of dealing with the embarrassment vanishes when Derek just kind of shrugs and heads off toward his old bedroom. 

_Ohgod_ , Stiles thinks, freaking out internally. Did he fuck up? Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck, he definitely fucked up. He follows Derek and stands awkwardly in the doorway, watching Derek flip through a book he'd pulled off the bookshelf. 

He waits for Derek to look at him, almost hoping he doesn't for another minute, his heart racing, and when Derek finally does, Stiles just says, "I'm sorry." 

And when Derek looks at him like it's the saddest news he's ever gotten, Stiles has to go back to make sure he'd said what he thought he said. Yep, just "I'm sorry." And when Derek's face begins to mask his obvious hurt, to start moving toward accepting the bad news Stiles is apparently delivering, it starts to make sense. 

"Wait a minute, do you think I'm breaking up with you?" 

"Are you not?" Derek says, jaw clenched. 

"Jesus fuck, Derek," Stiles says, starting to get really angry now. "Over one stupid embarrassing moment? Do you know how many times a month I get into those kinds of situations?" And he can't help it, his voice keeps rising until he shouts, "Seriously? If you don't know that I love you by now, then you're never going to believe in us." 

And Derek just fucking stares at him. Stiles rolls his eyes and stomps his way back across the hall to their room. He immediately starts throwing away all the candles because wow, what a stupid idea. 

One second the doorway's empty and there are five candles in the trashcan and then suddenly Derek's there and the sixth candle is just going in, and Derek says, "You didn't make a joke." 

"What?" Stiles grouses, looking for the candle that will become his next victim. 

"You didn't make a joke, you always follow up when you're serious by making a joke," Derek says, and Stiles is about to go off again because _seriously_ Derek, that is so not the point. 

Except Derek moves into his space with a _definite_ wolf-power advantage and says, "I love you too." 

Stiles just stares at him, trying really hard to stay angry with the seventh candle in his hand, because saying I love you doesn't just fix everything. 

"You shouldn't throw those away, what if the power goes out?" Derek says. He pulls the candle out of his hand and continues, "I know you prefer to leave on every light in the apartment, but they're really good for reading." 

It's probably the anger's fault, but it takes Stiles way too long to realize that with Derek's smirk and his tone that he's actually _attempting to be funny_. 

"Maybe you can donate to a campus activist group for their next candlelight vigil," Derek suggests. 

"Okay, enough with the candle jokes," Stiles says, breaking. 

"How many did you _buy_?" Derek asks, but Stiles breaks off his laugh by moving in for a kiss. 

And in between kisses, they agree, "let's save it" and "soon," knowing that they put too much weight on the night and that it'll be better if they wait. 

****** 

Stiles lets Derek sleep in the next morning, mostly because Derek actually stays asleep when Stiles gets up, which is rarely the case. He pours himself a bowl of cereal and sits down to watch last night's Colbert, content to let the day pass by without a care in the world. 

Which is why he really doesn't see Derek coming. He's pretty sure he's just been laughing hysterically at his laptop and spilling cereal milk on himself when Derek is there, ripping the bowl out of his hands and then straddling him on the couch before attacking his mouth. It's a pleasant development, not one that Stiles is used to from Derek, especially when he slides his hands down Stiles's back and then pulls him up while he grinds down, creating a friction that Stiles has been missing for a while now. 

"Okay, wow, when you say 'soon' you're not messing around, are you?" Stiles says around shallow breaths. 

"Our safe word is 'tax exemption'," Derek says, and even though he hangs back a little, his hands don't stop moving across Stiles's body. 

"Jesus fuck," Stiles murmurs reverently, because Derek definitely doesn't do things halfway. "Bedroom. Now." 

Their trip-hustle to the bedroom would probably be embarrassing if Stiles's head wasn't completely filled with everything that could happen over the next however long. He trips over his socks as he tries to pull them off, but Derek just catches him as he tries to pull Stiles's shirt off. 

When they settle on the bed, Stiles latched on to Derek's neck like it's a lifeline, he realizes almost absently that he has no idea where to go from here. If Derek were just some guy he brought home, he'd be tearing at zippers and doing his best to lead things along, but Derek's not just some guy. That's always been a good thing up 'til now. 

"What is it?" Derek asks, suddenly tense. Stiles realizes he's kind of stilled. 

He shakes his head. "It's fine." Derek doesn't look convinced. "Look, you threw me off with the jumping on and everything, forgive me for needing a minute to get my bearings. That cereal's gonna be all soggy by the time I get back to it." 

"You didn't need a minute when you ordered us to the bedroom," Derek points out. 

"Yeah, but I also didn't have to think about limits and challenging them before we got the bedroom," Stiles snaps. Derek's eyes widen slightly in comprehension. Stiles soothes a hand down his side and leans down to kiss him gently. "I just don't wanna screw this up," he finally admits, quieter than he'd intended. 

Derek just holds him there for a second, silent, leaving Stiles with his anxious thoughts. But then Derek nods, his look resolute. "So we define the limits, and we actually use our safe word if the need arises." 

"You still wanna stick with 'tax exemption'?" Stiles cracks with a smile. 

"Too late to change it now," Derek says, smiling back. When he leans in to kiss Stiles again, his hands slide down his back and past the band of his sweatpants to rest on his ass. They're both breathing a little heavier when they break apart and Derek says, "The fact that you stopped to think about limits is exactly why I know this will work. I trust you." 

"Okay," Stiles says, his mind a little more dazed now that Derek's hands have taken up new residence. "So, wow, um. Maybe you can tell me what you want? And we'll go from there." 

Derek pulls Stiles down a little roughly, his kiss messy as they begin to rub against each other. Stiles knows he's stalling for time, but he can't really bring himself to chastise him for it. "I want to suck you," Derek finally says, his voice rough. Stiles's hips stutter because _yes_ , he's definitely down with that, but he also needs to know what _he_ can do for _Derek_. Before he can remember how to speak, though, Derek continues, "And then I want you to get me ready so that you can fuck me." 

" _Jesus christ_ ," Stiles grits out, worried for a second that Derek's rough but confident tone is going to put him there far too early for the real fun to begin. "That was, heh, yeah, that was agreeably specific." 

Derek's breath hitches as Stiles reaches down to rub the front of his pajama pants. His hands clench against Stiles's ass as he says, "I've been thinking about this a lot." 

"...like, how a lot?" 

Wow, that shade of red on Derek's face definitely works for Stiles. When he grins, almost involuntarily, Derek smiles back and swats at him before telling him to shut up. 

"Okay, um. Yeah, we should definitely do that," he agrees, "as long as you let me reciprocate. Y'know, with my mouth." 

"You're a real poet, Stiles," Derek teases. 

"Whatever, you love it," Stiles says. 

"Yeah," Derek says breathily, and after a second Stiles realizes he's not just saying that, he's agreeing. Wow, that works for him too. 

"So yes?" Stiles asks, forcing his hands to still at Derek's waistband. 

"If you don't do something soon, I'm going to take matters into my own hands," Derek grouses. 

After a moment to get pants off and bodies aligned, Stiles begins to lick his way down Derek's chest. He's enjoying the ragged breathing coming from Derek almost as much as if he were the one being touched, and after he spends some time reverently sucking along Derek's hip and inner thigh, Derek finally says, "Stiles, I swear to god." 

He smiles, a little proud of himself, but the smile gives way to pure lust when he looks up at Derek's face and just how wrecked he looks. He reaches down and squeezes his own cock, needing the touch for just a second as he locks eyes with Derek. 

Derek looks almost angry, but it's a charged anger, something that's definitely working for both of them right now. Stiles shifts and wraps a hand around the base of Derek's cock, maintaining eye contact as he moves his hand once up, then down Derek's cock, until Derek lets out his held breath and tilts his head back and his hips up. 

Stiles releases his own breath and stops to first lick his palm, then readjust to suck the head of Derek's cock into his mouth. He takes his time at first, despite Derek's hip jerks, letting himself adjust to the feeling so he doesn't do something stupid that will throw off their whole groove. When he relaxes his throat enough to take in as much as he feels he can, Derek grunts, and his hands slide into Stiles's hair. Stiles moans around Derek's cock in encouragement, speeding up his movements in a particular rhythm before eventually allowing Derek to lead him along. 

When Derek tenses slightly and pulls a little harder, Stiles goes with his movements and pulls off. One look at Derek's expression and he's shifting up and kissing him, Derek's tongue fucking against his hard and fast to match the rhythm Stiles had just been using. 

Stiles pulls at Derek's arm until they flip positions, and then it's his turn to be agonized by teasing. Derek takes mercy on him much earlier, though, swirling his tongue around the head of Stiles's cock before sucking him in, then pulling back enough to repeat the motion. "Oh, wow," Stiles murmurs reverently, and then, " _fuck yeah_ ," when Derek's hand grips the base of his cock and pumps when Derek pulls off. 

"Okay, whoa, you should probably stop now," Stiles finally says when his vision is starting to blur. "You have a request I fully intend to fill," he adds, and then fights hard not to snicker. 

Derek gives him a hard look as he shifts back around, readjusting their positions. "Was that a pun?" 

Stiles smiles, ignores him and reaches for the lube. 

"You are impossible," Derek mumbles, but when he kisses Stiles, it's with a smile. Stiles settles in to their lazy kiss for the moment, letting himself calm down a little so that he can make this good for both of them. 

He watches carefully as he fingers Derek open, making sure that he's not moving too fast. What he doesn't expect is for Derek to utter an amazing moan and push against his three fingers, practically begging for it. 

"Fuck, you're amazing," Stiles says, his voice nearly breaking. He twists his hand and whimpers at the way Derek's body moves. 

"Stiles," Derek says in a warning tone. 

"Yeah," Stiles agrees, fumbling for a condom as fast as he can. 

It takes a lot of control to go slow at first, but Stiles does, waiting for Derek's cue to move. When he gets it, though, he lets loose, taking encouragement from the noises Derek makes and the look on his face. 

"Oh fuck," Derek says, his hips moving in conjunction with Stiles's, making it even hotter, if that's even possible. His cock is hard and leaking, pointing up toward his chest, and Stiles grips it hard and pumps to match their rhythm. 

"I want you to come first," Stiles says, his own voice coming out more rough than he expects. 

"Fuck," Derek says again, his movements getting more frantic, and Stiles thinks he doesn't oppose that wish. He shouts as Stiles moves a certain way, quickly orders, " _Keep moving_ ," and his body tenses as Stiles continues to work his cock until he shoots all over his own chest. 

"Aah," Stiles says eloquently, his rhythm faltering but not slowing down as everything intensifies. His hips snap urgently against Derek's, and as he feels his orgasm building, he takes a deep breath and slows, sliding into Derek and shouting as he starts to come. 

Derek clenches against his cock, and Stiles feels like he comes for an age, it feels so good. He stays seated firmly for a minute after, bending Derek in half to kiss him with as much energy as he has left as his hips jerk a little through the aftershocks. He pulls out eventually, but continues the kiss, settling comfortably against Derek's warm body. 

"So we can do that again, right?" Stiles says once they've disposed of the condom and cleaned up a little. 

"Give me a minute," Derek says, and then cracks a smile. 

"Not _yet_ ," Stiles replies, smacking at Derek's arm. His heart rate is starting to return to normal. "Just, wow. We should definitely do that again." 

"Yeah," Derek agrees, wrapping his arm around Stiles and pulling him in for another kiss. 

"Would it be totally cheesy to tell you I love you right now?" Stiles babbles, staring at Derek's collarbone as he traces his finger along it. 

"Too late," Derek says. Stiles sees his smile spread across his face out of the corner of his eye. "Stop making that face, you dork. I love you too." 

Stiles cackles and digs his fingers into Derek's side. Because any time is a good time for a tickle fight. 

****** 

Two days after what was definitely one of the best days of Stiles's life, he's on his way out the door for a coffee run and then-- 

\--the next thing he knows he's waking up groggily with a pounding in his head, and he thinks, _Oh no, not again_. Judging by the ache in his shoulders, he figures he's been tied up here a while. 

When he opens his eyes to deal with this new bout of head trauma, he sees him. He might as well be twirling his non-existent mustache for all that he's the obvious villain of the story. 

"Jonathan." 

It's Derek that says it, though Stiles would have if his head wasn't beating out a drum solo. A quick look around tells him they're in a shack somewhere in the woods, though it's impossible to tell where. 

"If this is another attempt to draw my pack out one by one, I have to warn you--" 

"Shut up, Hale," Jonathan snaps with a smack across Derek's cheek. Stiles fights against his bonds in vain. 

"Yeah, you know, ironically that's why you're here," he says, indicating Stiles's struggles. "It's nothing personal, you know, you just happen to be exactly who I need. An alpha and his mate." 

"Who _are_ you?" Stiles says. 

Jonathan shrugs. "Nobody special, not yet. I take it you've never heard of the ulfr?" 

Stiles stills. "No way," he says in disbelief, because he doesn't remember everything about it, but what he does remember is far from acceptable. He twists enough to look at Derek and explains, "He'd have you brainwashed, completely in his control. And to do it he has to take a _literal_ bite of my heart. How the hell would you think that's 'not personal'?" 

Jonathan smirks at Derek even as he snarls and jerks on the ropes tying him in place. "It's a rank higher than alpha. Finding a true mate for an alpha is rare, you two just happen to be the exception." 

"How can there be a rank higher than alpha?" Stiles says. "Does no one know what the word 'alpha' means?" 

"You're not going to hurt him," Derek says threateningly. 

"I don't have to, not long term," Jonathan says, crouching down to Stiles's level and smiling. "I need the alpha to turn me, but then the rest is up to you. If you let me turn you, or hell, I'd even let Derek turn you, you might even survive the bite." 

Stiles waits for his expectant look and then spits in his face for good measure. "Yeah, I'll survive, but Derek will be brainwashed into doing whatever you want. That's not a life I want! If you think I'd choose a world in which the man I love can't trust that he loves me, then you're fucking crazy." 

"How sweet," Jonathan says, straightening. "Fine, you can choose to martyr yourself, but your boyfriend will live on knowing that you chose not to stay with him. I'll make sure he doesn't forget it." He moves toward Derek, provoking him to strike and grinning when he does. 

Stiles's eye catches on some movement toward the door. He turns his attention back to Derek and Jonathan, saying, "He may be my boyfriend, but he's also my alpha. Do you know what that means? You should, as a non-wolf member of another pack. That means that not only am I there by choice, but that I trust Derek with my life." 

Jonathan scoffs. "Don't be so naive, Stiles. My 'pack' is just an avenue to power. They gave me enough knowledge to get this far." 

Stiles tunes out his monologue long enough to get Derek's attention, nodding toward the shadow in the door. 

Derek meets his eyes again with a burning look, holding his gaze until his eyes flash red and there's a _rip_ in the rope as he pulls a hand free. 

He slashes out across Jonathan's face, enough to cause plenty of pain but not so deep that the action could turn him. There's a satisfying whirr as an arrow soars into the room and catches Jonathan in the shoulder. 

Dana pushes into the doorway, looking fierce and bearing down on Jonathan. She tosses the crossbow away and shifts, disabling him fairly thoroughly without a bite. When she straightens, her movements are careful and controlled as she cuts through Stiles's and then Derek's bindings, and then she composes herself elegantly back into human form. 

"Thank you," Derek says with deference, turning immediately to Stiles and gently surveying his scratches. Stiles whimpers a little when Derek finds a tender spot, but he's grateful for the touch. 

"That was really awesome," he says to Dana, but then he looks at Derek and more quietly adds, "You too." 

"I shouldn't have been able to do that," Derek says. 

"It's the bond between you and your mate," Dana interjects. "There is a power there that's hard to match, if you know how to use it. That's why this one sought you out." She pauses and stares down at Jonathan's unconscious body in disgust. "It's partially my fault that he knew of this potential. I'll leave it to you to decide how he should be dealt with, if you so choose." 

Derek's gaze moves to Stiles, the obvious question there. Dana nods at them and steps away to give them privacy. 

"I'd rather you didn't," Stiles says, moving forward to circle his arms around Derek's waist. "I want to be rid of him, don't get me wrong. I just want to make sure he's out of our lives completely from now on. And he can't be if you're responsible for what happens to him." 

Derek stays silent for a moment, holding him close. "It's hard not to make him pay for what he wanted to do to you," he says, "but I think you're right. Do you trust Dana enough to see this through?" 

"I think it's pretty clear she wants to be rid of him too. She saved us. That's gotta count for something." He soothes his hands down Derek's back. "What do you think?" 

Derek nods. "At least for this, I think she'll come through." He pauses, his expression turning more serious. "What you said about trust, and how I'm your alpha..." 

"Don't you dare ask me if I meant that, because you sure as hell better know the answer to that." 

Derek's lips curl up into a small smile. "Still, I wasn't opposed to hearing it." 

"Wow, please don't start with that look right now, because I may not be responsible for my actions." 

Derek clears his throat and takes a half-step back, and it's only then that Stiles realizes how close they'd been. "Come on, let's take care of this so we can go home." 

****** 

They don't debrief the pack until the next day, when they've had time to process everything, talk it through and also deal with all the pent up energy accrued from the situation. 

Derek gives a summary of what happened and of what they learned, and Stiles can't help but grin like an idiot at the "power of soulmates" part. 

"Yeah, you all caught that, right? Not only is my boyfriend a super awesome alpha and _amazing_ in bed, but our love can literally change lives." 

"Stiles," Derek chastises, his cheeks a pleasant shade of red. When everyone else snickers, though, Stiles realizes that he probably shouldn't push him too far in front of the pack. That can easily be saved for later. 

"Sorry," he says, but he maintains his shit-eating grin. He sees the sparkle in Derek's eye when he looks his way, and yeah. It's obvious Derek loves him, and he's made it pretty clear that it's mutual. Hell, even some crazed werewolf-stalking dude could see it. The fact that it's rare and apparently comes with some weird mystic-like power just makes it even better. 

So he does his best not to embarrass him through the rest of the pack meeting and lets his mind drift to thoughts of later. Later when he can find new ways to remind Derek that he trusts him, that he loves him. Later like maybe the rest of their lives. 

THE END 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to [follow me on tumblr](http://candidlily.tumblr.com) if you so desire! <3


End file.
